


Pounded in the Butt by the Necessity My Poverty Affords Me

by Gefionne



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Broke author AU, Hux writes gay erotica a la Chuck Tingle, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-04 12:13:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10277690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gefionne/pseuds/Gefionne
Summary: A. HuXXX is a cult figure in supernatural gay erotica circles. He’s written it all: unicorn gang bangs, were-rabbit butt invasions, mothmen with eight packs turning you gay. But he has a secret: he’s done none of the wild stuff he writes about; he’s a virgin. That all changes when he meets his biggest fan, Kylo Ren.A fill for the kyluxhardkinks exchange





	

**Author's Note:**

> The Prompt: Broke writer Hux, specifically non-human erotica ebooks. He releases several a week. They're not the best but they're cheap & the ideas are wild. You want a were-dinosaur oviposition gangbang? Were-ducks transforming midcoitus with spiral penises? Mothman sex in flight? He's written it all. He's done precisely none of it. The infamous A. HUXXX is a virgin. Kylo is his biggest fan & thinks he's in love with the shadowy man in the author portrait. He wants to meet him & will pay for the privilege
> 
> Consider this my love letter to Chuck Tingle.

_Looking up, I found myself staring into the black orbs of the creature’s eyes. It was terrifying, but as I glanced down its thorax—oh, it’s thorax!—I saw the rippling eight pack. Immediately, I felt that wash of delicious, gay want that had been simmering inside me for what seemed like eons._

_The creature took a step forward on its enticingly buff man-legs and fluttered its antennae coquettishly. The front of its cutoff blue jeans, which gripped its muscular ass just below the terminus of its wings, was tented._

_I began to salivate at the prospect of seeing its moth-ly member. Swallowing heavily, I tore my shirt down the center and declared, “I need you to destroy my ass, Mothman.”_

 

Hux leaned back in his rickety desk chair, cracking his neck and his knuckles. He was halfway done with this story; it was one of his best, he could feel it already. He had been playing with titles that morning in his cramped, sputtering shower: _The Prophecy of the Mothman Butt Invasion, Reamed by the Billionaire Moth on Wall Street_. He had just finished up his _Were-Weasel Ass Party_ series, and he wanted a complete departure.

Picking up the plastic cup (with a straw) beside his laptop, he took a bubbling last sip of coffee. It was watered-down, the ice having long ago melted. He wasn’t really in a place in his narrative to stop, but his stomach was growling, and if the clock at the corner of his laptop screen was correct, he hadn’t eaten since noon. It was after two in the morning now.

The wheels of his chair—a Craigslist acquisition from a month or so ago when the profits from his best seller to date, _Merry Christmas, Godzilla, Now Wreck My Backdoor_ , had come in—protested as he rolled it back and got to his feet. He shuffled across the carpet of his “office” (the empty wall where he could fit a tiny desk across from his bed) and onto the yellowed linoleum of the kitchen. He blinked as he flipped on the florescent lights.

His coffeemaker was crammed into the corner of the narrow counter beside the sink, and he went to it on autopilot, pulling out the used grounds and dropping them into the trash. They were swiftly replaced with new ones from the Chock Full O’ Nuts tin in the cabinet above. He reused the paper filter from the previous pot to save on them. Why coffee filters were so expensive was beyond him.

While the coffee brewed, he went to the refrigerator and peered inside. It was a pathetic showing. He had a half-gallon of whole milk in the door along with some ketchup and a jar of sweet pickles with one lone pickle floating in the green juice. On the shelf was a piece of leftover lasagna he had made in the bread pan his mother had given him. He had broken his glass 9x11-inch baking dish a year ago and still hadn’t found a reason to buy a new one when he had a perfectly good pan already. Neither did he have the money for one, not with rent to make on his efficiency apartment and bills to pay. The internet was the most important, of course, since it was how he published and sold his books.

It had all started as a lark really, a joke his friend Phasma had made as they looked over some of the abysmal self-published “novels” on Amazon. There seemed to be quite a large number of titles with werewolves and panthers and other creatures with human alter egos that seduced both men and women alike.

“Could you imagine writing one of these with a unicorn or something?” Phasma had asked. “It has to exist somewhere.”

It turned out it didn’t, and drunken Hux had taken it upon himself to make it happen. He had been writing since college, and thought of himself a serious, if aspiring, writer. Since graduation, he had been floating short stories about the weight of the human condition to literary magazines. A couple of them had been picked up, but it had done nothing to sell his first novel, something he had spent a full year writing, editing, and handing off to very patient friends to read. He still had all the rejection letters from agents stashed away in his desk drawer as a “reminder” and “an inspiration to keep going.” Most times he just ended up using them as scrap paper for his next ideas as they came to him.

It was on the back of the letter from First Order Literary that he scribbled the first lines of _I’m Gay for My Unicorn Neighbor Dan_. He and Phasma had had two bottles of cheap chablis she had brought over by then, and they had laughed over the basic outline: Eric, a modest family man in a nice suburb, is suddenly confronted with unrelenting thoughts of being pounded by his new neighbor, who just happened to be a unicorn named Dan Palomino.

When Hux had woken up the next day, bleary-eyed and half-covered in his ratty knit blanket, he had discovered the notes lying on the keyboard of his open laptop. Powering it up revealed a document filled with five thousand words of unicorn neighbor erotica. He had sat down slowly, paging up until he got to the beginning. He read it with a mix of horror and fascination.

It was written in a slapdash style, nothing like the stories he spent days mulling over, and utterly absurd. Dan had a “throbbing manhood” (because, of course, he had a man’s ripped body with the head of a unicorn rather than the body of an actual horse; Hux was willing to go far apparently, but bestiality was just a little bit too much) and Eric a “tight pucker fluttering with readiness.”

“Oh, my God,” Hux had whispered to himself as Eric was thoroughly reamed by a unicorn man in the living room of his suburban home.

He had closed his laptop carefully when he was finished and retreated to the bathroom for a shower. The idea was ludicrous, he reasoned, as he scrubbed shampoo into his hair. But as he washed it out, it became less so. After all, he had seen the garbage that was out there, and if that could get read, certainly the tale of Unicorn Dan could get a few downloads. If he sold the story for two or three dollars a pop, he might actually make a little money. He could use it, especially after his hours at the grocery had been slashed in half.

With a towel wrapped around his hips, he had returned to the desk and started researching self-publishing. There wasn’t much to it, he discovered. If he could whip together a cover—he knew the rudiments of GIMP—and do some basic typesetting, he was golden. He spent the rest of the day doing just that, and by four in the morning he had his first “book” up on Amazon for the low, low price of $1.99. He had chosen a _nom de plume_ not so dramatically far from his own: A. HuXXX.

In all honesty, he had expected nothing to come of it, but then the sales started to come in. With them came the comments:

_Who is this guy?_

_Is this supposed to be serious or a joke?_

_I think I love this._

_I need more of this person’s work RIGHT NOW!!!_

Hux had stared at his computer in complete shock. People were actually paying real money to read the worst short story he had ever written. More money than anyone had ever paid him to write before (which was nothing). When he called Phasma to tell her, she laughed for two solid minutes.

“How much are you making here?” she had asked when the fit had subsided.

“Enough to buy a couple of drinks,” Hux had replied. “Care to go out and celebrate?”

“No way, Shakespeare. You have to write another one.”

“What? No.” He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling heat creep up and into his cheeks. “I don’t really have the...experience to write this kind of thing.” Hux didn’t often remind himself that at twenty-eight years old, he still hadn’t had a boyfriend or any real sexual encounters, but this was one of those moments when it cropped up.

Phasma had made a dismissive sound. “Hux, I’ve been trying to get you laid for years, but you keep insisting that you have to focus on your writing. If you’re going to remain celibate, at least write something that can make you some money.”

“Oh, God,” he had groaned. “I’ll think about it.”

After he had hung up, he had chewed his lip for a few minutes, not believing he was really considering this, but then he reached into his drawer and pulled out another letter. He started the outline for _Unicorn Butt Fiesta_ , and the rest was history.

For the past eight months, he had been putting out one new story every couple of weeks, all of them more outrageous than the last. Some of the themes were topical, addressing current events in politics or pop culture ( _Thoroughly Pounded by the Sentient Manifestations of the Oscar-Nominated Films of 2017_ , for example), but others harkened back to his original content of unicorns and other fantastic beasts. He had wanted to write something like _Sharing My Butt with All the Beasts from_ Fantastic Beasts, but knew that would never fly with copyright. He had settled for a teacher-student story called _Professor Pegasus Ensnares My Gay Butthole_.

To his amazement, the stories began to get more popular, as a kind of lore about them spread around the supernatural gay erotica community (which was, apparently, a real thing). Commenters started to demand to know more about the mysterious A. HuXXX. The questions became consistent enough that Hux decided he could no longer avoid giving some details.

He set up a website and created a persona for himself: A. HuXXX, short for Admiral, former professor of astrology at Tingle College, born in Uncertain, Texas (a real place), and living happily with his three iguanas. He did not disclose his current residence even though it was requested for the purpose of sending fanmail. He considered getting a PO box for it, but decided just to use email instead. AdmiralHuXXX@gmail.com.

The money continued to come in as well. It wasn’t enough to live on, but in addition to Hux’s job at the grocery, it kept him in the black finances-wise. He could even afford to get take-out from time to time, which was exactly what he was planning to do rather than eat the limp-looking lasagna in his fridge.

Returning to his desk, he pulled out his phone and dialed the number for the pizza place down the street. They were open until three AM every day of the week except Fridays and Saturdays, when they stayed open until five. Hux didn’t call often enough for them to know his order, but when he appeared there to pick it up, they always had smiles for him.

Once the order was placed, he sat at the edge of his bed to pull on some shoes. He was still wearing his sweatpants, but didn’t really care to change just to wander down for late-night pizza. It would take a few more minutes before his food was ready, so he sat down at his computer to check his email.

There were twenty-seven new messages, all from fans. He scrolled through them slowly, trying to decide which one to read first, when a familiar address caught his eye: knightofren@fo.com. This particular fan had been sending him regular messages since he had started writing, one for each new story. They were always highly complimentary of the latest book, and even picked out favorite lines and themes (they had been especially fond of _Made Gay by the Spirits of Aztec Warriors Haunting My Balls_ ). But they never asked to know more about the next story or made suggestions for new titles. They simply told him how much they liked the material and were looking forward to the next adventure.

Hux had grown a little fond of Knight of Ren, as he called them, and looked forward to their messages. However, Hux had already received one about _Were-Weasels Hunt My Butthole_ , his latest. This was out of the ordinary. All the other emails forgotten, he clicked on it.

 

_A.—_

_I know this is kind of unorthodox. I usually don’t write to you unless you have a new book out. I hope I’m not interrupting the creative process with this request._

 

Hux’s brows rose. A request? From Knight of Ren? That was definitely unexpected.

 

_I know that you enjoy your privacy, and don’t make public appearances._

 

That was one of Hux’s most frequently asked questions: whether he would do a book signing. He didn’t know how that was possible, though, as all of his works were published digitally.

 

_But, I was hoping that maybe you’d be willing to meet one person. Maybe your most avid fan? I mean me, of course. I would give anything to sit down for a little while and talk about your writing. I know you reply to my emails (and thanks for that), but to actually be in the same room with you for even just an hour would be incredible._

 

Hux’s mouth opened just slightly in surprise. Of all the people who had asked him if he would meet with them, Knight of Ren was the last person he had expected. They seemed so polite and willing to keep a healthy distance. But here they were, asking the one thing Hux could never give, not if he ever wanted to be taken seriously as a writer beyond the odd niche he currently occupied. Still, he read on.

 

_It’s asking a lot, I know, but I’m ready to give you anything you want in exchange for that one hour of your time. I will go wherever you want me to. It doesn’t matter how far. I’ll fly you out to a discreet location if you want. What is one hour worth to you? Would $50,000 be enough? I don’t mean to sound like I’m offering to buy you, but I guess I kind of am._

 

Hux was gaping at the screen now. $50,000? He had to have read that wrong. He went back over it and read it again. No, that was what it said. Knight of Ren was prepared to pay him _fifty thousand dollars_ for one hour?

He looked around at his shabby apartment, at the peeling paint on the walls, the second-hand IKEA furniture, the fact that he had to reuse his coffee filters just to save enough money to make rent. The difference that $50,000 would make was tremendous.

But there was so much risk involved in meeting someone face-to-face. First of all, Knight of Ren could be some kind of psycho murderer who was only luring him out to kill him. Second of all, it would compromise his anonymity, and if he needed anything more than money, it was that. The mystery around his identity was part of what sold books. Knight of Ren could easily destroy that with one picture on their phone.

And yet...one hour and $50,000. Rubbing a hand over his face, Hux turned back to the email.

 

 _I’ll understand if you don’t want to do this, but I’m asking as sincerely as possible for just a little time. Then I won’t bother you again. Unless it’s still okay that I send you emails about your stories. I really like that, and I don’t want to lose it. You can tell me no, and I’ll be okay with it, but if you did this, it would be one of the most unforgettable hours of my life. Please let me know soon._  
  
_Yours,  
_ _KR_

 

Hux’s appetite had completely gone, his stomach in knots. The offer was unreal, unbelievable. Who the hell was this Knight of Ren, and how did they have that kind of money to throw around? What was someone with so much cash doing reading outrageous supernatural erotica? Nothing about this made any sense.

Still in a haze of confusion, Hux managed to get downstairs and go to the pizzeria. He paid for his food with his PayPal credit card, barely looking at the freckle-faced young girl behind the counter and made his way back home. He set the pizza box down in his kitchen to eat later, when he had calmed down some. He poured himself another cup of iced coffee instead.

As the caffeine suffused his blood, he started thinking about actually agreeing to do what Knight of Ren asked. They had suggested flying Hux out somewhere. Hux could easily pick a location far from his home so KR wouldn’t know where he lived. Of course, if KR booked the flight, they would know Hux’s airport of origin. No, that wouldn’t work. The meeting would have to be in San Francisco. And it would definitely need to happen at a hotel across town, far away from the dingy side where Hux actually lived. If KR was paying, it could even be a nice one.

They could meet in the hotel bar, nice and public so Hux wouldn’t be murdered, but secluded enough that they likely wouldn’t be overheard talking. It was only one hour, too. Then Hux could just take his $50,000—for some reason he imagined being handed a briefcase full of cash—and go home. He could set boundaries, even wear a disguise. Not a fake mustache and a wig per se, but at least a hat and sunglasses. He could set stipulations: no phones in the vicinity, nothing that could record. It wasn’t completely unthinkable. He might actually be able to get away with it.

Taking a long drink of his coffee, he went back to his desk and sat down heavily. He clicked the reply button under KR’s email. His fingers hovered above the keyboard for a moment, but then he began to type.

 

_KR—_

_I was indeed very surprised to receive your message and even more so by the request you made. You were right to say that I am very protective of my privacy and would under almost every circumstance refuse your offer. However, seeing as we have been corresponding regularly for quite some time, and it is clear that you are very much my most devoted reader, I am willing to entertain the idea._

 

Hux paused to think about logistics: when he wanted to meet and where. He pulled up a tab of the nicest hotels in the city and decided on the Hosnian, a boutique kind of establishment that had rooms for upward of $800 a night and a good bar.

 

_I am available for one day only, the seventeenth of this month, at four o’clock in the afternoon. This is nonnegotiable._

 

That was far from the truth, but Hux didn’t have to work at the grocery that day, so it was as good a time as any.

 

_I will meet you in the bar of the Hosnian Hotel in San Francisco, California. I expect you to be there when I arrive. Choose something secluded so we may speak privately. Give your name to the bartender and they will direct me to your table. The hour will start promptly at four-oh-five and conclude at five-oh-five._

 

He paused, cautious about the how to proceed with the next few lines. Money was a touchy subject, and he didn’t want to sound desperate (as desperate as he actually was).

 

_I will accept your offered donation. It can be sent directly to the PayPal account linked to this email. It should be transferred one hour before I am to come to the hotel. I will check._

 

He struck that last line.

 

_I will not ask your name, and you will not ask to know mine. You will leave your cell phone elsewhere. If you have any questions about this arrangement, you may address them to me here, but the time and date cannot change. I am quite busy and should not be taken from my work for long._

_Regards,  
_ _A. HuXXX_

 

Satisfied, he took a deep breath and hit Send. An electric mix of fear and excitement sparked through him. He was about to do a dangerous thing, but the payoff would be worth it. At least he hoped so.

 

* * *

 

When Hux woke up at eleven in the morning the next day, he went through his routine of breakfast (leftover pizza), coffee, and a shower. He was halfway through shaving when he remembered what had happened the night before. He nearly cut himself as he dropped the razor and bolted out of the bathroom. He opened his laptop with shaking fingers, opening his email.

There was the reply from KR, timestamped at 2:57AM, just ten minutes after Hux had sent his message. He clicked on it.

 

_A.—_

_There are no words to express how excited I am that you’ve agreed to this. The time and date you sent are fine for me. I will be there exactly when you said and everything else will be in order an hour beforehand. Thank you for this. It will be the highlight of my year._

_Yours,  
_ _KR_

 

“Holy shit,” Hux said, letting his hands drop into his lap. He gripped his knees, digging his fingers into the skin. He had to call Phasma right away.

She picked up on the third ring. “Hux. You only ever call during work hours when it’s important. What’s going on?”

He spilled the news in a rush, unable to hold back the flood.

Phasma was silent for a moment when he finished, but then she said, “Are you crazy? You’re going to meet some stranger who says he likes your books, and he’s going to pay you for it?”

“It’s ridiculous, I know,” said Hux, “but I need this money, Phasma. And I don’t know that he’s a man. You’re assuming things.”

“Fair point, but I’ll lend you some money if you need it that badly.”

“I refuse to take your charity, and you know it. This is something I earned myself.”

She sighed. “Just...be careful, all right? This could blow up in your face completely.”

“I’m aware,” he said, “but it’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

The seventeenth was one week away, and Hux filled his days with work. He finished his mothman story and started the next one: _Shared by the Butterfly Mafia Bosses_. The former received positive reviews, but none came from KR. Hux supposed he would tell him about it when they met.

The more he thought about it, the more he wondered what KR would be like. As he had said to Phasma, he wasn’t sure that they were a man or woman or didn’t identify as either. It didn’t really matter in the end, but several nights in a row, he had dreams about a tall and suit-clad figure, handsome and powerful. It was pathetic; almost like a character out of his books. Hux certainly wasn’t turned on by his “literature” and didn’t honestly expect anyone else to be, either, but he liked to imagine that KR was someone that would appeal to him.

Spurred by those thoughts, Hux spent more time that he would like to admit choosing an outfit for the meeting. He decided on black slacks and a button-down shirt in green, a color that went well with his hair. The hat he decided to forgo, but he did dig out a pair of sunglasses he could wear. He hung the clothes on a hanger neatly and set it on the corner of his closet door as a reminder of the reality of his situation.

Soon enough, the day arrived. Hux slept until one, having stayed up half the night tossing around in his bed, but then went through his morning rituals. He took extra time with his hair and shaving, even dabbing on some cologne that his mother had bought him for Christmas one year, but he had never had cause to use. He regarded himself in the mirror critically, hoping he wasn’t going to be a disappointment to KR.

At three o’clock he logged into his PayPal. He still partly doubted that there was really money in the offing, but when he saw his balance his heart skipped a beat. $50,244.72.

“Christ Almighty,” he breathed. At least now he could afford the Uber downtown to the hotel.

The trip took less time than he had imagined. His driver chatted away amiably, but Hux was too nervous to give more than one word replies. By the time they pulled up outside the Hosnian, he was trembling. He thanked the driver and stepped onto the sidewalk. It was 3:57, so he lingered outside until the clock read 3:59, then he walked into the hotel.

Everything inside was of sleek, modern design, all clean lines and glass. It was probably not the best place to have chosen considering the open and exposed lobby, but when he got to the bar, he was relieved to find that it was darker and decorated in red tones. He left his sunglasses on as he approached the bar. The bartender was a short, older man with a salt and pepper beard. He greeted Hux.

“Hello,” Hux said. “I’m looking for a KR.”

“Sure thing,” said the bartender. He pointed to a table in the back corner. “He’s right over there.”

 _He_. Well, that answered one of Hux’s questions.

Hux proceeded slowly over to the booth, trying to size KR up before he got there. But he was tucked into the corner and hard to see. Hux held his breath as he approached.

“KR?” he asked, his throat tight.

The man seated in the booth was as broad across the shoulders as Hux might have imagined, but he was _sans_ suit. He wore a black t-shirt and dark jeans. Dark hair hung down to his shoulders in glossy waves. He looked up at Hux with wide, brown eyes. Hux swallowed. He was beautiful.

“A,” KR said, sounding both relieved and awed.

Hux nodded.

KR gestured to the space across from him. “Please, sit. Do you want something to drink?”

Hux hadn’t planned on having anything but water, but he found himself in urgent need of something stronger. “Whiskey,” he said. “Neat.”

“I’ll be right back.” KR slid out of the booth elegantly, and Hux saw that he was tall, maybe even taller than he was.

Hux set his hands on the table to steady then. When he lifted them again, they left damp marks that quickly dissipated. _Shit, shit, shit_ , he cursed to himself. _What have you gotten yourself into, you fuckwit?_

KR returned just a moment later with two glasses of whiskey, one of which he set down in front of Hux. “Four-oh-five,” he said with a small smile. “I guess that starts our time.”

“I suppose it does, yes,” said Hux, taking a drink from his glass. “How would you, ah, like to begin?”

KR looked at him for a moment, studying what he could see of Hux’s face around the sunglasses. “You’re British.”

“I am.”

“But you live in the States.”

“For some years now.”

KR blinked at him slowly. “I would have flown to England to see you. I would have flown anywhere.”

Hux wet his lips, rather overwhelmed. “Yes. You said as much in your email. And I’m here now.” He didn’t want to talk much more about his living arrangements, so he steered the conversation away from that. “I’m pleased that you’re a fan of my work. It’s been very pleasant exchanging emails with you.”

“Yeah?” said KR, face lighting up. “I thought I might have been annoying, but I couldn’t help it. I just really admire what you do. It’s one of a kind.”

Hux held back a laugh at the absurdity of that. “Thank you. It’s been quite the experience to write this genre.”

“What got you into it?”

“I...well,” Hux stammered. He considered lying, but decided it would be best just to keep his story straight. “It was a whim. I had never experimented with anything like it before, and I just thought to give it a try.”

“Amazing,” said KR, shaking his head. “Without that passing whim we wouldn’t have your work. What a loss that would be.”

He sounded completely genuine, as if he actually admired what Hux did.

“You really think so?” Hux asked.

“Absolutely. You’re a pioneer of the genre. It’s incredible what you do.”

Hux took another deep drink. “But it’s...farcical. Truly preposterous. Do you really think it’s good?”

KR looked at him quizzically. “You don’t think it is?”

“It’s not meant to be taken seriously,” Hux said, almost sheepish. “It’s not really even erotic. I mean, it’s too foolish to be sexy.”

“Maybe a little,” said KR.

Hux’s eyes went wide, his mouth opening. “A _little_? I just published a story about a buff mothman fucking a tourist visiting Maine. Thinking that is actually racy is just...” He trailed off, unable to saying anything more.

KR tossed his head back and laughed. When he settled again, he said, “It’s a little outlandish, but it’s genius. No one else would dare to write that kind of thing. I find it fascinating.”

“But surely not erotic,” said Hux. He was actually afraid of the kind of person that would find his books compelling enough to get off to.

KR narrowed his eyes, leaning in. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

Scandalized and disbelieving, Hux pulled his sunglasses from his face. “You _cannot_ be serious.”

KR didn’t respond immediately. He looked utterly mesmerized, his lips parted.

Hux realized his mistake far too late. He had exposed himself, and KR was staring in what could only be called open fascination.

“Wow,” KR said.

Hux felt his cheeks heating up. “What?”

“You have gorgeous eyes.” He glanced down at his glass for a moment. “I, um, didn’t expect you to be so...”

“What?” Hux asked again, aching with curiosity.

KR looked up, gaze sharp. “Hot.”

Hux’s mouth dropped open.

“I shouldn’t have said that, should I?” KR asked, leaning back in his seat. “I just...whoa. You’re hot _and_ talented.”

Hux was at a loss for words. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had complimented him on his looks. He had been called attractive before, but no one had ever said he was “hot.” That term applied much more to KR than it did to him.

“I didn’t expect you to look like you do, either,” he said before he could stop himself. “You’re...quite striking.”

A slow smile spread across KR’s face. “Yeah? Not a lot of people say that.”

“Whyever not?” Hux said.

“I dunno.” KR shrugged. “Most people don’t really pay attention to what I look like. They look at my company.”

They were venturing into personal territory, something Hux had stipulated they wouldn’t talk about. And yet he wanted to know. He realized he wanted to know a great deal about KR. “You have a company?”

KR nodded. “First Order Literary.”

“Oh, my God,” said Hux. “You’re the head of First Order? Ben Solo?”

“My friends call me Kylo,” he said. “It’s a nickname from when I was growing up. The corner of his mouth twitched up. “I’d like it if you’d call me that.”

“Very well,” Hux said, still reeling. First Order was the press by which he would have died to be published. His serious writing, of course.

“Are you okay?” Kylo asked. “Do you need another drink?”

Hux shook his head. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“All right. Just let me know if you need anything. I’m at your service.”

Hux huffed a laugh. “Did you really just say that?”

“I did,” said Kylo. “And I mean it. Anything you want.”

At that particular moment, Hux wanted more than anything to demand that one of First Order’s agents look at his novel again, but he was not in a position to disclose that he was Armitage Hux, not Admiral HuXXX, PhD.

“There’s nothing I need at present,” he said, “though I’m sure you’d like to return to the topic at hand. Is there more you’d like to know about my writing?”

“What inspires you?” Kylo said. He lowered his voice slightly. “Personal experience?”

Hux pressed his lips together, trying decide how best to make himself sound like a connoisseur of cock that would write based on what he knew. Unfortunately, he decided on: “It’s rather more fantasy than reality.”

Kylo made a hummed sound of acknowledgement. “Right. I guess that makes sense considering the material. You can’t really fuck a cup of cold coffee who is also your masseur.”

He was referring, of course, to Hux’s book _Hammered by the Ripped Coffee Masseur_ , his October special.

“Indeed,” Hux said.

“I really enjoyed that one,” said Kylo, finishing off his whiskey. “But I already told you that in the email.”

“You did. But...may I ask you something?”

“Of course. Anything.”

“Why does the head of one of the most prestigious publishing houses in the country read my stories when you could be reading the best of literature?”

Kylo folded his hands on the table. “You get tired of Pulitzer material after a while. Sometimes you just want to read something different. Your work is different.”

“No doubt about that,” said Hux.

“You dismiss it so easily,” Kylo said. “It really is something remarkable. You have fans all over the world.”

Hux ran his finger around the rim of his empty glass. “Yes, I suppose so. I don’t appreciate it like I should. It’s made a real difference in my life.”

“Improved it, I hope.” Kylo inched his hands forward across the table, until they were near the center. They were long-fingered with neatly trimmed nails.

“Yes,” said Hux. “It has.” He set his own hands down just a few inches from Kylo’s. He wanted to touch them, see if they were warm.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Kylo said. He moved closer, until the tip of his middle finger brushed Hux’s. “It’s almost five o’clock. You should probably go.”

Hux had lost all track of the time. “Oh. Yes.”

Kylo rubbed his finger against Hux tentatively. “Unless maybe you want to come upstairs with me.”

Hux’s pulse jumped, the prospect both enticing and terrifying. He had been kissed before, many years ago at a party in college, but it had been years, and he had never gone farther than that. What Kylo was suggesting certainly involved more.

“Do you?” Kylo asked.

Hux’s mind raced, going over every option, but when he finally opened his mouth to respond, he said, “Yes.”

Kylo took his hand in earnest then, guiding him out of the booth. He didn’t let go of it as he pulled a fifty dollar bill out of his pocket and dropped it on the table.

“Come on,” he said to Hux. “I’m on the twelfth floor.”

Unable to do anything else, Hux followed him mutely to the elevators. As they stepped inside, and Kylo pressed the button of the appropriate floor, he stroked the side of Hux’s hand with his thumb. Hux had almost anticipated an approach in the elevator—like in movies—but Kylo was perfectly restrained. As the elevator dinged at the twelfth floor, Hux felt adrenaline flood his veins.

There was only one door ahead of them, and the plaque on it read “Penthouse.” Hux was once again surprised, but he really shouldn’t have been. Kylo was one of the wealthiest young CEOs in the country.

“Come on in,” Kylo said, swiping his keycard. The door beeped, and he opened it for Hux to pass through.

The room was gorgeous and open, bigger than Hux’s entire apartment. There was a living room area with couches and a television, a kitchenette, and a bedroom and bath through a door to the right.

Kylo stepped over the kitchenette. “Can I get you anything? I have champagne and a couple of beers, I think.”

“Champagne would be great,” Hux said. He had had cheap prosecco at New Year’s, but real champagne was far out of his budget.

A cork popped, and Kylo was pouring two flutes of sparkling wine. He came over with one for Hux.

“Cheers,” he said, clinking their glasses together.

Hux drank deeply—likely more deeply than he should have—and smiled. “That’s delicious.”

Kylo smiled in return, though he wasn’t looking at the wine. “It is. Do you want to sit?”

“All right.”

Kylo led the way to the sunken living room and chose a spot on the couch. Hux considered sitting across from him, but decided that was not the point of this and took the place next to him. They were not close enough for their shoulders to brush, but Hux could easily reach across and touch Kylo’s thigh. The denim of his jeans was taut over it. Hux took another sip of champagne to wet his dry mouth.

“This view is great from here,” Kylo said. “I’ve never been to San Francisco before.”

“I assume you live in New York,” said Hux.

“Yeah, where the office is.”

“You flew across the country to see me. Did you arrive this morning or last night?”

“Last night. I didn’t want to risk a flight being delayed and missing you.” Kylo turned to look at him. “If this was my only chance, there was no way I wouldn’t be here right on time.”

Hux smiled under his gaze. “I was nervous about what this would be like, but I’m glad it happened.”

Kylo set his glass down on the coffee table and, shifting closer, he reached for Hux’s cheek. His fingers brushed the side, warm and soft.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he said.

Hux latched onto his knees to keep his hands from shaking. “All right.”

He kept his eyes open as Kylo leaned in, cupping his jaw as they pressed their lips together. It wasn’t a demanding kiss, just light and teasing, but as soon as Hux went into it, he was desperate for more. He grabbed for Kylo’s arm, latching around the bicep where the sleeve of his t-shirt met the skin.

Kylo groaned into his mouth, sliding his hand to the back of Hux’s head to pull him in. He tongued the seam of Hux’s lips until Hux opened for him. Hux’s stomach clenched as he moved in to meet Kylo. He explored the inside of his mouth, feeling the backs of his teeth and the slick heat of his tongue.

Hux’s heart was pounding in his ears, everything around him fading to black until he was only focused on Kylo’s mouth, his hands, the scent of his soap. Too soon, he pulled back.

“Oh, my God,” Kylo said. “You taste like champagne and whiskey.”

“A strange combination,” said Hux.

Kylo kissed him lightly, licking at his bottom lip. “I love it.”

Hux stared into Kylo’s face, hardly believing that any of this was happening. Kylo moved his hand down from Hux’s face to his neck, his shoulder, his chest, and lower, until he pressed it to Hux’s groin.

“This is the part where your characters beg to suck the were-rabbit’s cock,” Kylo said, “the throbbing manhood of the mothman.”

Hux cringed. “Do you really have to quote that at me right now?”

“No,” said Kylo, grinning, “but I’m ready to beg to suck the author off if that’s what he wants me to do.”

Hux raised his hips into Kylo’s hand almost without thinking. Kylo gripped him through his slacks, making him gasp.

“Not too much,” Hux said hastily. “I...I can’t take it.”

Kylo lifted his brows. “Is something wrong?”

Hux shook his head, his face burning. He couldn’t lie about this, not when the barest touch through his pants could have him coming. “I’ve never done this before.” He braced for Kylo’s laughter, his shock, but instead Kylo’s eyes fell closed and he pressed his forehead against Hux’s.

“You’re going to let me be your first?” Kylo asked, voice tremulous and deep.

“If you want to be,” Hux replied.

Kylo kissed him hard. “God, yes.”

They delved back into each other, this kiss ravenous. Kylo had stopped palming Hux’s cock, sparing him the embarrassment of coming in his pants. Instead he was rubbing Hux’s thigh in bold, hard strokes.

“Please,” Kylo said against Hux’s lips.

Confused, Hux mumbled, “What?”

Kylo kissed down Hux’s neck and back up to his ear. “I want you in my mouth. Please let me.”

“Yes, yes,” Hux said, nearly babbling.

Dropping to his knees, Kylo went for Hux’s belt. He unbuckled it with steady, practiced hands, pulling it free of the loops and tossing it to the floor. He flicked the button of Hux’s pants and lowered the zipper. Hux was fighting for breath, sucking in air that didn’t seem to reach his lungs.

“Lift your hips up for me,” Kylo said, taking hold of them.

Hux did as he was told, allowing Kylo to pull his slacks down. Kylo eased his black underwear down as well, careful not to catch them on his cock. Hux groaned as he felt Kylo’s exhale on the tender skin.

“I’m not going to last,” Hux said, honest, if a little ashamed.

“It doesn’t matter as long as it feels good,” said Kylo. He massaged Hux’s hipbones with his thumbs. “I want to make it perfect for you. Tell me if you want faster or slower. Or harder.”

Hux nodded, unable to speak. The sound he made when Kylo dragged his tongue up the length of Hux’s cock, though, was guttural. He bit his lip, stifling it, as Kylo parted his lips and took Hux’s tip into his mouth. Seeking purchase to ground himself, Hux grabbed for Kylo’s hair. Kylo hummed in approval, sending shockwaves through Hux’s body.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he cried. “Oh, God.”

Kylo started with shallow bobs of his head, twisting slightly as he pulled back. Hux gasped and swore, pressing up into Kylo’s mouth to drive himself deeper. He was close already, and he said as much aloud. Kylo slowed, letting Hux come down before taking him as far as he could. Hux’s mouth dropped open, his head falling back against the couch. He felt Kylo’s nose pressed into the ginger hair between his legs, his chin against his testicles. Then Kylo swallowed. Hux’s vision whited out, and he came with a shout. Kylo took it all, rubbing Hux’s thighs through it.

Slowly, he pulled back, licking Hux clean as he went. “Was that good?” he asked. His voice was slightly rough from taking Hux’s cock, and Hux shuddered at the sound.

“It was perfect,” Hux replied, stroking the back of Kylo’s head.

Kylo pressed a smiling kiss to the tip of Hux’s cock, making him hiss, before standing. Hux’s gaze was drawn to his groin, where his erection was pressing against the fly of his jeans. Hux reached out for him, but Kylo caught his wrists.

“You can do that if you want to,” Kylo said. “Or I can fuck you. You could call it research for your books if you want to. Feel what it’s really like to be pound—”

“Don’t you dare say that,” Hux growled. He had no interest in hearing anything about his ridiculous stories right now.

Kylo smiled. “Whatever you want, A.”

“Hux. My name is Hux. Armitage.”

“Armitage Hux,” Kylo said. “I like it.” Reaching down, he stroked the side of Hux’s face with the backs of his fingers. “Will you go to bed with me, Hux?”

“Yes.”

Before Hux could stand up, Kylo bent and scooped him into his arms. Hux was not a small man and had never imagined anyone would be able to carry him, but Kylo bore him into into the bedroom as if he weighed nothing at all. Kylo set him down on the bed, letting him stretch out. Hux’s slacks and underwear were still wrapped around his ankles; he kicked them off. He felt exposed and a little chilly, but all of his attention went to Kylo as soon as he pulled his shirt off.

Hux had always described the characters in his stories as comically muscular, perfect Adonises who glistened as if oiled at all times. Kylo wasn’t built like that, but he had definition in his arms and chest. His stomach was just slightly soft, but there was clearly muscle beneath. He was absolutely stunning, and Hux wanted nothing more than to touch him. But he stayed away, slowly undoing the fly of his pants—he wore nothing beneath—and pushing them down his legs. He was half-hard, his cock hanging heavy between his thighs.

“Can I join you?” he asked, taking a step toward the bed. Hux shifted over immediately, making space for him. He crept across the mattress on his knees, stopping only when he was hovering over Hux. He planted a firm kiss on his lips. “Have you ever had anything inside you before?”

“My fingers,” Hux said. “Just two.” He rarely had time for it in the shower—the hot water ran out so quickly—but from time to time he would slip his fingers into his ass as he brought himself off. He had learned the perfect place to press to make the orgasm all the more intense.

“We’ll start there, then,” said Kylo, “but you’ll have to take three before you’re ready for me.” He gave a sly smile. “It’s not quite like your books where everyone can just be ready in an instant.”

“I know that’s not realistic,” Hux grumbled. “I just don’t want to fill page after page with slow, tentative fingering. It’s better to skip to the good part.”

Kylo was reaching for the bedside table. He produced a bottle of lubricant and a condom. “I won’t be tentative,” he said. “But I won’t hurt you.”

Hux had heard that the first time was not particularly comfortable, but he believed Kylo. He didn’t think he would do anything to intentionally cause him pain.

“Are you going to take off your shirt?” Kylo said.

“Oh, shit,” said Hux, going for the buttons. He got them undone and shucked the shirt. Kylo took it from his hands and tossed it to the floor.

He came back to Hux and tapped him lightly on the shin. “Hold your legs up. Unless you want to get on your knees.”

“I think I want to see you,” said Hux.

Kylo looked pleased. “Okay.” Taking the lubricant, he poured some onto his forefingers. “One first. Then two.”

Hux couldn’t see what he was doing from his place on the bed, but he could feel it when Kylo’s first finger entered him. It glided smoothly, more easily than Hux’s had when he was in the shower. He hadn’t used lubricant.

“Relax,” Kylo said. “Take a deep breath.”

Hux complied, drawing in air steadily. As he exhaled, Kylo pushed another finger into him. He arched up, gasping.

Kylo set a hand on his belly and pushed him back down. “Easy. You’re going to take this just fine.”

He worked both fingers into and out of Hux, gently spreading them until Hux was stretched. He gave one quiet warning before adding a third. It was strange and a little difficult, but Hux relaxed into it and found that he could take it, as Kylo had said, just fine.

“You’re so sexy,” Kylo said, leaning down to kiss Hux’s thighs and stomach. He went up to his chest and sucked a nipple into his mouth. Hux moaned. “I can’t believe I’m the first one to do this to you. I’m going to make it so good, Hux, so good for you.”

“I want you,” Hux said, rising up on his elbows to kiss Kylo’s lips. “I’m ready now.”

Kylo withdrew, but only to retrieve the condom. He gave his cock a hard stroke before he rolled it on. Taking the lubricant, he slicked himself.

“Breathe for me,” he said to Hux.

Hux did, and as he blew it out, Kylo pressed into him. He gasped at the mix of pain and pleasure. Kylo didn’t stop. He pushed himself in until he was fully seated, but there he paused to give Hux a minute to get used to being filled.

“God, you feel amazing,” Kylo said, almost a groan. “You’re so tight, so hot. Does my cock feel good inside you?”

It sounded like something Hux might have written in his stories, though he likely would have had his character say a line more like “Does my big, fat, gay dick make you moan?” He really did write the most absurd books he had ever encountered.

Hux wanted to say yes, wanted to tell Kylo how good it was, but instead he just said, “Fuck me.”

Kylo hitched Hux’s legs up around his waist, bringing himself even deeper. Hux swore as he pulled out and then drove back in. It wasn’t hurried, but it wasn’t hesitant, either. The pain began to fade with every thrust, until Hux was panting and begging for more.

“Harder, Kylo. God, fuck. _Faster_.”

Kylo rested his weight on his elbows, but pressed close enough to Hux to suck at his neck, surely leaving bruises. Hux didn’t care, not for a second. He crossed his legs at the ankle and pulled Kylo into him.

“Hux, Christ, _yes_ ,” Kylo said. “I’m gonna come. Tell me I can. Say you want me to come inside you.”

Hux scrabbled at his back, nails biting into the skin. “You may come, Kylo. Come inside me.”

Kylo’s pushed into Hux a last time as he cried out. He was pressed as deeply into Hux as he could, Hux desperate to have him there. They were both breathless, hearts beating in tandem.

“Are you okay?” Kylo asked, brushing away the hair that had fallen over Hux’s brow.

“Never been better,” Hux replied with a weak laugh.

Kylo kissed him before easing himself up and off of Hux’s chest. He slipped out of Hux, leaving him feeling empty.

“Do you want to take a warm shower?” Kylo said. “It should help with the soreness.”

Hux agreed and let Kylo lead him by the hand into the massive bathroom. He turned on the shower—one of those rainfall ones that came from the ceiling—and they went in.

“Are you going back to New York tonight?” Hux said as he scrubbed floral-smelling shampoo into his hair.

“Mm, yeah. The redeye.” Kylo’s head was thrown back at he rinsed his hair clean. Hux was once again struck by how lovely he was.

“So you have time for dinner.”

Kylo looked down, opening his eyes. “You want to have dinner with me?”

“I would,” said Hux, nodding. “That is, if you would like to join me. There are a number of excellent restaurants in this part of town. Or so I’ve heard. I’ve never been to any of them.”

“Why not?”

Hux sighed. “The life of an erotica author is not a particularly lucrative one, I’m afraid.” He looked down. “After all, I did accept your offer of quite a bit of money.”

“I would have paid twice that,” Kylo said, slipping his arm around Hux’s waist and pulling him close.

Hux rested a hand on his chest. “Why? You had no idea what kind of person I was. I could have been a woman from Fresno for all you knew.”

Kylo kissed his neck. “That’s true. But I wanted to know. That’s why I asked. I had to meet you.”

“Well,” said Hux, “what do you think? A skinny ginger who writes erotica because he can’t sell his other work?”

Kylo drew back, looking intently at him. “I knew I had heard your name before. Armitage Hux. You sent your manuscript to my agency.”

“I…” Hux blinked, stunned. “You remember that? _You_ read my manuscript?”

“I did,” Kylo said. “It had a lot of potential, but needed refinement. Didn’t we write that in your letter?”

“No. Not at all. It was simply a stock rejection.” Hux remembered opening it with a flare of hope only to be disappointed once again.

Kylo scowled. “That wasn’t what I asked my senior agent to send. She had specific instructions.” He pushed a hand through his wet hair. “I wondered why I had never seen it again.”

Hux stared at him. “Would you look at it again? I’ve revised it since then. I was going to send it out one more time, but I got caught up in all this A. HuXXX nonsense.”

“It’s not nonsense,” Kylo chided, hugging Hux to him. “It’s really clever and takes a dig at a whole genre. You’re a cult star. Don’t underestimate that.”

“I suppose you’re right.” He chuckled. “I admit, I have enjoyed it. It’s been an adventure. But if I’m to start writing something serious again…”

“Don’t stop. Keep doing this. You can work around it. Send me your book. Of course, I’ll look at it again.”

Hux cupped Kylo’s cheek. “Are you saying that just because I slept with you?”

“No,” Kylo said. “You’re a good writer, Hux. I think you’ll go far. Even farther than you already have.”

Sliding his hands around Kylo’s waist, Hux rested his head on his shoulder. “This is maybe the wrong thing to ask, but...am I going to see you again?”

Kylo’s voice rumbled against his ear: “Do you want to?”

“I do.”

“Then you will. I’ll come as often as I can. I’m very keen on working remotely. I tend to read most of my manuscripts at home. In fact…” He guided Hux’s face up until he could meet his eyes. “How about I cancel my flight tonight and stay a few days?”

Hux felt his stomach turn over. “I’d like that, but…” He bit his lip. “I do have writing to do.”

“Will you let me have a sneak peek of your next story?” Kylo asked, grinning.

Hux gave Kylo a sly look.  “Only if you promise to pound me in the butt while I read it aloud to you.”

Kylo laughed. “It’s a deal, A.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr [here](http://gefionne.tumblr.com/).


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